Tag: death

All Stories, Fantasy

Orville Baumgardner and the Morning Glories byJames Hanna

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Author’s Note

Orville Baumgardner is the chattiest of men. He grew up in an Indiana farm town, graduated from a small rural college with gentlemen’s Cs, and used his gift of gab to get elected to the Indiana House of Representatives. Orville prides himself on having read over two hundred books, including most of the classics, yet sustained a career as a populist politician by promoting deep state conspiracy theories to his constituents. After twenty years, Orville gave up politics because he had a crisis of conscience. He has since lectured on numerous topics, including abortion, book banning, and corporate corruption, and his spiels have appeared in many literary journals. Although he has recently left this world, he continues to lecture in the afterlife.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Ghost of a Shark by Neil James

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The monster on the beach lies on his side – bigger than a boat, sadder than the ocean. The seafront’s deserted at dawn, so I leave my bike in the empty car park, next to the tariff sign that upsets the tourists. My shoes imprint into the wet sand as I approach him, the creature from another world. 

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All Stories, General Fiction

Rence in Repose by J.H. Siegal

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John Rence, the cobbled-up person you thought you knew, now lies here charming and cold.

His voice will endure, on those many recordings, and many of you will claim, hearing them again someday in a department store or in a television commercial, to have known him.  But he was not the sloppy socialite you thought you met in bright apartments and dingy clubs.  He was in fact a marionette holding his own strings.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Chalatenango, 1983 by J. Paul Ross

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Warning: Extreme content – see tags.

Running.

Gasping.

Retching, the son of Olayo Mejia charges toward his village amid the stench of burning wood and searing flesh. The odor is heavy and it is moist and it fills the valley beneath him in a haze of squalid yellows and heavy browns. It covers the fog-laced treetops and mingles across the terraced fields and, as gunfire again bursts over the Salvadoran hills, its reek grows sharper with every footfall and every wild swing of his arms. Its taste lingers in his mouth, its fumes choke his lungs and he wants so much to pause and catch his breath. He wants to fall to his knees and weep in terror but he knows he cannot, for the helicopters are prowling above him, the smoke is billowing high into the morning air and his home is very far away.

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All Stories, General Fiction

March by Sarp Sozdinler

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March was a bitter month for everyone involved. Jodi was born into one, like Eric Clapton, her childhood idol. In another March, thirty years ago, Clapton’s four-year-old son ran into a hole in the wall. The hole was supposed to be a window, but it had no glass on it. A scream tore through the house, and the mother understood right away that it didn’t come from the boy; the boy was busy plowing through the air, down fifty-three floors.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Emergence Delirium by Danielle Altman

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They found me floating face down in the motel swimming pool, a seedy place off the Sunset Strip where we’d been partying. A janitor heard the splash. He dragged me up to the patio and slapped my cheeks, which was funny. I was already blue, and now some random guy was hitting me. We kissed. His breath choked me. I woke, briefly. Curled over, shivering on the lip of the deep end, my reflection rippling beneath as my lungs spasmed dry.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

All History in a Day by Ismael Hussein

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What do bombs do?

They shatter.

How does the sky feel?

Broken.

Where do the bullets go?

Everywhere.

What do the children say?

Help.

What do the mother’s scream?

Stop.

What does the world say?

Nothing.

What does God say?

We don’t know, yet.

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All Stories, General Fiction

GranCel by Leah Mullen

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Wednesdays were egg salad.  Strong opening gambit from Linda: she was testing the waters.  She and Clint were meeting for the first time.  Her carer Lupe had shown her how to use the app which paired her with Clint, she explained, “just before she had to go back where she came from”.  That left Linda alone, at the tail end of hip surgery recuperation, still prone to falls but with wits enough about her to click on Clint’s profile.  Lucky for both of them, Clint was a fan of egg salad.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Book of Condolences by Evan Parker

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I remember my niece best as a child: red hair, faded blue eyes, skinny arms and legs; her movements so fast and agile that I called her Rabbit. She was a rare soul. This became apparent when, at four years old, she entertained her parents by gently guiding their old cat, Charlie, towards their neighbor’s timid puppy. Her small hands coaxed them closer until they sniffed each other tentatively, her face brightening with a hopeful smile. But after that greeting, the cat lashed out with a paw, leaving behind a bloody cut and a whimpering dog.

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